


Just a Matter of Time

by Hinn_Raven



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Family, Gen, Red Team Carolina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 12:38:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10764438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinn_Raven/pseuds/Hinn_Raven
Summary: Carolina’s not entirely sure when she joins Red Team, honestly.There’s no “dibs”, no signing her name on the dotted line like she did for Freelancer or the army before that. It’s just small things. Simple things.





	Just a Matter of Time

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posting my Bingo Wars entry for Red Team! For the "Red Team gets a Freelancer" square!

Carolina’s not entirely sure when she joins Red Team, honestly.

There’s no “dibs”, no signing her name on the dotted line like she did for Freelancer or the army before that. It’s just small things. Simple things.

It’s movie night with the boys, awkwardly crammed between Donut and the edge of the couch, listening to Simmons complain about sci-fi physics while Grif complains about the characters and Donut the special effects, and when they all glance at her she starts ripping apart the awful fight scene choreography, and they _listen_ , and agree with her, and keep inviting her back. Until five movies in she’s leaning back against Donut, three beers, in, listening him to complain about latex and green screens until she falls asleep there.

It’s training sessions with paintball, all of them against her, trying to land a hit desperately, while she runs literal circles around them, something light and happy building in her chest, so powerfully she thinks she might lift off the ground. It’s the shriek of joy when Donut finally hits her, and when Grif and Simmons flee, thinking she’ll take her vengeance, but all she does is laugh and laugh, the pink paint dripping down her shoulders.

It’s Sarge’s hand on her shoulder after a long, hard fight, her breathing ragged, and the tears in her eyes as she starts to ask Epsilon to run the healing unit before she _remembers_ , remembers he’s gone and never coming back, and she’s all alone in her head again, the too-empty feeling sending her right to the bottom of the cliff. Sarge just stays there, and doesn’t move, keeping watch over her as the tears flow hot and fast, unseen beneath her helmet, until she’s under control again and ready to keep moving, to keep going.

It’s Grif and Simmons, bickering again in the wart hog while Carolina yells at them to focus, her gun on her shoulder as she tries to cover them, but she honestly doesn’t even mind their arguing anymore, and she’s not sure what she would do if it stopped. If it stopped, she’d know something was wrong. And the idea chills her to the core.

She doesn’t even realize it for a long, long time, not until Tucker doesn’t stop to say her name while trying to work out sleeping arrangements. “Yeah, uh, the Reds can go here, and we’ll stay here.” And Carolina realizes with a jolt, she’s become one of the Reds somewhere along the line; at some indeterminate point, she became one of them.

It’s two more weeks before she asks. She’s sitting on the back of the warthog, staring up at the stars, her breath clouding the air. Sarge comes out to relieve her of her watch, shotgun in hand already.

She wants to ask him when they’d decided she was one of them; because they decided long before she did, she knows that much. She longs to know at what point, between her dismissal of them and now, did they look at her, broken as she was, and decide to keep her.

She doesn’t ask.

“The Blues are quiet,” is all she says.

“They’re probably plotting something,” he growls, but she can’t mistake the fondness in his voice for anything else.

“We’ll be ready for them,” she says, keeping her voice deliberately light, almost afraid he’ll take this from her. (She knows why she’s afraid, and she refuses to think about it.)

“Of course we will!” Sarge laughs. “This is the Red army! We sleep with both eyes open and our guns loaded! And the warthog runnin’!” He pauses and claps her on the shoulder proudly. “And we’ve got the best damn Freelancer on our side! They don’t stand a chance!”

Carolina tilts her head towards the sky and smiles.  


End file.
